


A Sort of Brilliance

by xaves



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Boys Being Cute, Lactose Intolerant Persons abuse, M/M, Shower Sex, Tesco shopping trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-09
Updated: 2012-10-09
Packaged: 2017-11-15 22:42:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/532581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xaves/pseuds/xaves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>… pressing kisses between water dripping down their cheeks to lips that were too slippery to hold the affection. </i>
</p><p> </p><p>Colin and Bradley met a fan. But that's not before the gym, and quite a bit before the trip to Tesco, and really, it all blurs together when you think about how bloody wonderful the weather was that day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Sort of Brilliance

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by picture below. I cannot claim to know precisely what happened on this glorious day and I apologize for any mistakes in accuracy, just in case, by some miracle, it was actually sunny that day instead of cloudy. All I know is that there was this picture, gym, Tesco, and love.

“That jumper looks rubbish on you.”  
  
“ _You’re_ rubbish.”  
  
“Debatable.”  
  
Bradley snorted and tucked his hands deeper into the pockets of said rubbish jumper while Colin laughed like an utter loon beside him. Their pace didn’t match; Colin’s strides were long to watch his plank legs, while Bradley straggled behind. They managed to stay side-by-side all the same, arms bumping occasionally, eliciting grins that went unspoken.  
  
Or, at least, he was hoping they went spoken, because he was having a difficult time of wiping the smile off his face and there was every possibility that Colin could eventually notice the love-stuck puppy stare he was giving him. Not that Colin would essentially mind, but as the gangly man had pointed out, they really did need to stop being so blatantly obvious.  
  
And by they, Colin meant Bradley, and that meant Bradley needed to act cool. He could act cool, no problem, he had mastered cool ages ago. Somewhere in-between rolling around an empty train station and tripping over his own sword on set, it had come quite naturally to him. Bradley Cool James.  
  
“Nice day for a walk.”  
  
“We’re just going to Tesco, Bradley.”  
  
“That does not diminish the seriousness of this journey, Mr. Morgan.”  
  
In all fairness, it _was_ a rather good day. Birds singing, cloudy as usual with a chance of rain that never dipped below ‘it’s actually probably going to rain.’ Colin’s hair was still damp from the gym showers, sticking to the nape of his long neck, the ends curling. The light scuff of Colin’s shoes against the pavement filling the empty street they were strolling through. Bradley’s own fingers tingly and pruned, and his shoulder stinging from a bite mark he had gleefully earned between tiled walls and searing hot water. If Bradley had anything to say about it, it was a brilliant sort of afternoon, thank you very much.  
  
—-  
  
“Someone’s going to hear.” Colin shivered, arching against Bradley’s chest, one hand splayed against the wall as the two of them blinked rapidly under the downpour of water that had clearly been set to boiling. What had started out as a giggly shower was rapidly degenerating into something else entirely, and Bradley would vouch that Colin started it. He had suggested they do this together with that cheeky little grin of his that made his dimples stand out like blazing signs of ‘Fuck me in the shower, Bradley James.’  
  
‘Why no, Colin, I would never. That’s practically indecent and rather scandalous.’  
  
‘Do it, you twat.’  
  
‘Well, if you insist.’  
  
And Bradley was secretly a great fan of an assertive Colin Morgan.  
  
“It’s a private stall. I’m sure they’ll just assume that one of us is very vocal between shampoo and conditioner.” Bradley spread himself against Colin’s back, fingers smoothing over a water-slick waist, pressing in with his fingertips, stroking, while his lips skipped along his shoulders, reveling in the taste of sweat getting washed away, leaving nothing behind but clean skin.  
  
“Getting frisky with the soap, one could say?”  
  
“Moaning helps me relax while I’m shaving.” Colin burst into breathless giggles, shaking his head even as he reached around to curl his fingers into Bradley’s hair. It was encouragement enough, his laughs receding into soft panting, hips pushing back, head bowed underneath the spray above them.  
  
Bradley brushed his mouth close to Colin’s ear, sighing, “Turn around, Cols.”  
  
Much easier that way, seeing Colin’s eyes flutter shut so close, throat stretched out long and stubbly beneath his jaw, his mouth open as Bradley pushed him to the wall again, grabbed a knee, pinned him there just so, _just so_ , pressing kisses between water dripping down their cheeks to lips that were too slippery to hold the affection.  
  
He pushed in, easy thrusts, holding him closer than necessary, too tight, face buried between the junction of neck and collar to hide his face, his overwhelming realization that this black-haired man was his, and how foolishly, hopelessly tangled his heart strings were, those pesky things. He had knotted them, looped them, laced them around the entity that was Colin, and then gotten himself attached as well.  
  
And Colin pushed back, clinging, teeth dragging over Bradley’s shoulder as he muffled his groans, quiet in his pleasure and physically insistent in his lust.  
  
 _Stuck to you. Addicted to you. Oh, but I adore you._  
  
Some of that may have potentially slipped into actual verbal form, because Colin was already sliding his hands around his face, pulling him, pressing in with kisses that easily said what they had such a hard time saying aloud.  
  
 _Love you._  
  
 _Idiot._  
-  
  
The shower water seemed twice as loud as they slumped together afterward, the spray pounding into their ears, Colin nibbling on Bradley’s collarbones while he smoothed down the bright red teeth marks he had just imprinted there. Bradley, meanwhile, sluggishly wondered if the tiles he had propped his forehead against would leave an imprint.  
  
“Cols.” He mumbled, voice hoarse and low, milling about somewhere by their feet with the water going down the drain. Colin grunted in response, idly combing through Bradley’s blond, wet mop. “Cols, I need crisps something terrible.”  
  
“I don’t-“  
  
“And maybe a few jelly babies for dessert.”  
  
“Erm.”  
  
“Colin Morgan, I do not think you realize what a grave situation we are in. This is of dire importance, we need to make our way to Tesco immediately.”  
  
Leaving Colin nonplussed and spent in the shower, Bradley might have laughed, but he assumed Colin was provided with far more entertainment at the sight of him storming off stark naked and thrusting a determined hand in the air as he began their quest by first donning some pants.  
—-

“Where were you off to?”  Colin caught his eye again, snapping Bradley’s attention back to the sidewalk. “You looked miles away, mate.”  
  
“Wouldn’t go that far when you’re still here, Cols. You know I can’t abide those terrible distances between us.”  
  
Colin only had a moment to react, eyes widening, his mouth spreading into something that was undoubtedly going to be an abashed smile, when they were interrupted and startled out of having to address just how aggressively sappy Bradley had become as of late, a smiling fan shyly approaching them for a picture.  
  
Bradley politely coughed when Colin mentioned that they had just been at the gym, but eagerly added that indeed, they were on a difficult quest to locate a Tesco and find the Holy Bag of Cheese & Onion Crisps. They dawdled in the street, touched on the weather, and sent her on her merry way with promises that the next season would be brilliant, really, please watch it.  
  
Though not before they snapped a selfie with her and her iphone, as promised, crowding together around it to fit in the frame.  
  
It was a good picture. Not too awkward, and taken just before Colin’s hand had meandered around the nice girl’s back to pinch Bradley’s backside, making him harumph in as dignified a way as possible while Colin merely smiled, thanking the fan profusely, hiding his glee as only a twat with a diploma from Glasgow could.  
  
“Uncalled for, Cols.” He added a dramatic rub to his rump for good measure.  
  
“You were too far away from me in the picture.” Colin tilted his head in teasing, “My lack of ability to abide those distances between us and all that.”  
  
“Oh, I see. Yes, very good, using my words in reference to your own evil deeds makes it a joke. Great material, Colin, ha ha.”  
  
“You liked it.”  
  
“Entirely besides the point.”  
  
—-  
  
“Ice cream, Colin? Ah, wait, no, I keep forgetting that you aren’t allowed to eat the physical manifestation of fun and joy. Oh, how about some tomato soup? No? I spy some fine pork loin over yonder that has your name all over it, I think.”  
  
Colin allowed Bradley to toss him about the market, hand firmly attached to wrist like a human hand-cuff while the shopping basket rattled and thudded precariously against his hip, holding two precious bags of crisps deemed acceptable by Bradley James standards.  
  
“I see yogurt over there that would do wonders for your complexion, my good man.” The blond added over his shoulder, zipping down aisle after aisle and making sure to point out every single thing that Colin was incapable of eating mostly for the sake of his own amusement.  
  
“I thought you just wanted crisps.” They rushed through the dairy products, Bradley’s steps almost gleeful.  
  
“On the contrary, I also wanted personal entertainment and an opportunity to reuse these delightful jokes pertaining to your allergies and diet choices. Oh, look, milk!”  
  
They paid no attention to the grocers standing by the registers giving them side-glances as they paraded through the supermarket, laughing and falling over each other like two men who were very clearly not smitten with each other.  
  
—-  
  
They pause together by the mirror that hangs by the door in their flat. Colin nuzzles up behind the other, dropping their groceries in favor of tucking his chin on Bradley’s shoulder and slipping his hands into the blond’s jumper pockets.  
  
Fingers tangle together with practiced ease, and they smile, eyes meeting in their reflections.  
  
“Still looks rubbish on you, this jumper.” Colin grins, hands squeezing.  
  
“I was lying before, though.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
“You’re not rubbish.” Bradley’s head turns, nosing his face into Colin’s cheek, soft, shy-  
  
As his free hand snakes down to bite into the soft flesh of the other man’s bottom.  
  
Colin’s undignified squawk is music to his ears, embarrassed bright ears a bonus to the brilliant sort of afternoon that Bradley knew it to be, thank you very much.


End file.
